


try and evolve

by GiuliaMed



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, POV Martino, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiuliaMed/pseuds/GiuliaMed
Summary: In Marti’s eyes, Nico is so impressive he outshines everyone else. It’s not always a good thing, Marti being love-blind.





	try and evolve

“Do it,” Martino insists, a sly smirk on his lips that tells Silvia she should definitely not do it.

Instantly, she shoots him a mock-offended look, but he sees right through it; it’s clear she’s just trying to buy time. “Why am I the one who has to embarrass herself?”

He struggles to make out her exact words; they’re swallowed by the loud beat, not as deep and energetic as he’s used to on other Friday nights, but still danceable. With everyone dressed nicely and ready to enjoy the evening, it seems like the perfect party, and he found himself mingling, wandering around between people he’s never seen — he only knows Giovanni’s parents and his little brother anyway — until he ended up where he started: with his friends, formed into a group like a shield from everyone else.

The sun went down hours ago, and garden torches are illuminating Gio’s back porch under the deep purple sky, creating a soft glow around them. Tables full of drinks and cake provide safe places to hang out, and they claimed the one they're standing next to. 

At his side, Eva absently sways to the music; she’s quieter than usual. 

This whole game of dares is partly for her, not only to have a good time while waiting for the adults to finally go home so they can have the place to themselves, but — most importantly — to distract her from what’s going on behind them. 

Marti saw her desperately trying to keep her face turned to them, only to secretly steal looks when nobody was paying attention to her. The game was the perfect entertainment to get her mind off it.

Elia and Luchino were on board immediately. Unsurprisingly, their creativity peaks in situations like these, and one of them already completed a dare which ended in a broken glass and a pointed look from Giovanni’s father. The birthday boy himself seemed to care less, hiding his grin when he quickly disappeared, escaping potential trouble.

Silvia peeks over his shoulder. “He’s like... fourteen!” She hides half her face with a hand and giggles, like she can’t believe they’re making her do this.

They’re standing on Gio’s back porch, at the edge of the dance floor, which is not a dance floor at all, really, just an area in the backyard that’s now crowded with at least thirty of Gio’s relatives, who seem more than happy to test his friends’ patience by postponing their exit. 

But it’s fine. They’re all a bit drunk, an hour more won’t hurt.

(As if Marti’s life isn’t already an exercise in patience. Waiting for class to end. Waiting for the weekend. Waiting to get to the apartment.)

“Do it,” he mouths at Silvia, his intense gaze challenging her. Later, he should make her say stupid stuff to Gio's parents, Marti decides. This is going to be fun. 

From behind him, a hand snakes its way into their circle, a habitual gesture that puts a familiar weight against his upper arm and safety in his heart, and he feels fingers knocking against his glass bottle — tap, tap, tap — until he releases it and closes his hand around a new beer. 

After a second Nico is gone, presumably to leave the empty bottle on the nearest table, uncaring, like they’ve done for the whole evening, and accumulated a number of bottles that guarantee they’ll wake up with headaches. Whatever, they’ll clean up tomorrow.

“Lu!” Silvia turns to Luca for help. 

Marti’s gaze turns to him, a warning already on his lips, but it’s not necessary. Luchino only waggles his eyebrows and grins. “Can’t help you out of this one,” he adds apologetically.

Out of the corner of his eye Marti sees Nico come back and clink his drink against Eva’s, which wakes her out of a trance. They share a smile, and warmth bubbles inside Marti at the sight, spreads in his stomach. Seeing the people in his life get along, without him being concerned or holding back, it’s _nice_. 

So nice he got used to it instantly; so nice, once in a while he asks himself how he lived without it. (So impossibly nice, at times he wonders if it’s meant to last.)

He can’t stop the smile spreading across his face, and watches Nico’s bobbing shoulders while the song changes into something smoother, less wild, but still upbeat.

Tonight, it’s like they’re on a secret mission, connected by a quest only the two of them know about. Something solely shared in a look between them as soon as they arrived and sensed a shift in Eva’s mood. 

Nico turns to her and steps closer, trying to get her involved with completely ridiculous dance moves, ignoring her resolute facial expression like he knows she’s going to cave in, and it takes a long minute before she finally does, then she can’t hold back her grin anymore, and it turns into a laugh when she attempts to dance along.

They go with it, quickly attuned to each other's moves they find an easy rhythm, and soon Nico takes their drinks and puts them on the floor, before pulling her closer. With an irresistible smile on his face, he slides his arm under her shoulder blade, and takes her hand in his, transforming the goofy play into something else. 

It’s impossible to look away — they’ve been here for some time and the alcohol is making Marti’s eyes heavy with contentment — but in an instant he’s awake again. He forgets he’s watching Silvia go up to one of Gio’s cousins, and he completely forgets what weird story she is supposed to convince him of, even though it was Marti’s idea.

Of all the things he considered could happen tonight, this isn’t one of them. His eyes are glued to Eva’s and Nico’s movements like he’s transfixed, following their fluent steps and graceful twirls. They’re not joking around anymore. Nico keeps his eyes on her and leads with practiced ease, like muscle memory is allowing him to relax into it. He’s following instincts.

Marti is frozen in place, no longer hearing his friends’ words.

Eva throws her head back and laughs, but they stay in precise balance, both smiling so much their cheeks must hurt.

This is one of Nico’s favorite things, Marti imagines, because Nico loves music.

And Marti has seen him loud, and he’s seen him quiet. He’s seen him every way he was allowed to.

Nico loves to get lost in peaceful moments at his parents’ place, when he misses the piano and invites Marti to enjoy that special time with him. When he plays his sweetest melodies for him.

He loves to get lost in the thumping of the beat at house parties. Cheeks flushed and without a care. Shaken out limbs and mouthed song lyrics, finally finding equal excitement in others.

And Marti is not opposed to dancing, either. He enjoys having fun with his friends, letting loose on the dancefloor, or nodding his head to the beat with a drink in hand.

Unsurprisingly, with Nico everything is easier. More fun. He’d watch him enjoy himself forever, even if Nico is lost in his own world. And when he’s not, when Marti is the center of his world, he goes willingly when Nico pulls him closer, a playful arm around his neck, and the promise of a good time.

Marti lives for these moments. There were so little of them last year. Days when Marti was truly happy, when he didn’t want to change a thing. 

Nowadays, it’s almost a default setting.

But now with this new information, and with Nico guiding Eva over the dancefloor with endless confidence, to distract her from Gio and Sofia dancing a few meters behind them, Marti’s chest can’t make up its mind about whether it wants to fight against the heaviness forming inside his lungs, or if it wants to breathe at all.

He takes a sip of his drink in a daze. It stirs something ugly in his stomach.

*

One day, suspiciously soon after the party, an old and forgotten thought comes back to him. 

It starts as a distant memory, vague and hazy, and grows into a constant reminder ringing in his ears.

After all the months he’s been friends with Filippo, and after all the lifesaving advice he received, and the issues he solved with his help, there was one sentence that stayed. 

It's been so long, Marti forgot their talk on the rooftop; it was a relic from another life and eventually replaced with happier memories. He didn’t think about it until that night at Gio’s.

Now, the buried thought is coming to the surface, where it was brewing without him noticing. 

*

In the middle of their conversation, Marti blurts out the question. He doesn’t know why he brings it up now, only that something in him wants to. Like it’s been hanging over his head, although it’s an innocent question.

Nico scrunches up his face where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at his phone, and looks up. The light of the afternoon sun peeks through the curtains and catches the tips of his hair.

“You want to learn how to dance?” Nico asks slowly, like he’s testing the meaning of Marti’s words in this exact order.

Marti shrugs. Yes. He never thought he’d say this.

Nico is not convinced. “I’m pretty sure you already know?”

“No, I mean…” Marti half-turns, looking around the room like he’s going to find courage there, but Nico reaches for his arm and gently pulls him closer. “Do you remember Gio’s birthday?” Marti continues.

Nico tilts his head, his features relaxing after a long moment of thinking. He hums his understanding, curious eyes with brows raised just a fraction. Always so patient. Nico’s hand glides down Marti’s arm, until their finger are loosely intertwined.

Marti relaxes, lets out a long exhale. Lets himself breathe. “When did you learn that?”

Nico sets his phone somewhere behind him, giving him his full attention. “My mom taught me a few years ago.”

Of course. With Nico playing the piano, and parents who are continuously endeavoured to be involved, the idea is not that far away.

Marti tries to imagine a younger Nico with his mother, dancing in the living room, navigating around the couch and the armchair, stumbling and laughing at missed steps. His voice softens. “That’s nice.”

Nico nods, a fond smile on his face like he’s remembering too. “So you like it?”

“Yeah.” It comes out more breathy than he intends.

Nico’s grins at that, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay. I’ll show you.” He guides their linked hands around his neck, the other arm too, leaves it there, and then he slides his own hands to Marti’s jaw, fingers in his hair, and Marti’s no expert, but even he knows that’s not where they’re supposed to go. 

“Now?”

Nico shakes his head. His gaze flickers downward, and he brushes their noses together. “We’re meeting our friends in an hour, remember?” He smiles, pulling him in. “And we’re _very_ busy until then.”

All of a sudden, his plan is a much less interesting idea than Nico’s lips, one breath away from his mouth. Nico hesitates like he wants to say something else, but he kisses Marti instead, and now that Marti thinks about it, dancing lessons can wait.

*

Nico being a water polo champion, truthfully, Marti hasn’t believed the first time it was mentioned. Nico surely must have been kidding, teasing him back then, he thought. 

But after a summer weekend at the lake house with all the boys, Marti found out how good of a swimmer Nico really was. His natural confidence in water — that he used for playfully teasing Marti and gaining the upper hand every time — was, let’s say, challenging.

Since Nico started uni and found a team, and with it new friends, Marti’s been wondering what other secret talents were going to come out over time.

Now, standing in the entrance of the swimming hall, his curiosity is piqued, and even though he didn’t plan to go in, his feet follow the way through a long hallway and the locker rooms, until the walls open up into a giant hall and he is met with the smell of chloramines. 

There’s yelling in the distance and he quickly makes out several groups in different pools that are all engaged in some sort of training. Some of them are so far away they’re only swimming caps floating at the water surface.

Loud laughter echoes through the room, coming from a group near him, and it’s clear which team is having the most fun. A dozen swimming caps lie all around the pool edges, and Marti looks with no real expectation of seeing his boyfriend, but he recognizes a head with black hair glued to his forehead.

He leans back on the wall — tries to stay low-key and blend in — and watches. 

Nico’s team seems to do the opposite of what everyone else is doing, half of them in some sort of play fight to see who can push the others underwater and they’re definitely not playing with rules. It’s chaotic and silly, trying to outdo one another with a variety of crazy tactics and moves, until almost all of them are drained of energy and laughing too much. 

He watches them have fun, and since he hasn’t met any of them yet he’s not concerned with being recognized, hoping to stay in the shadows to the end, until one guy shouts something that includes a _“Nico”_ and Nico turns his head and searches, until he spots Marti. 

Then, because he’s a little shit who knows exactly what he’s doing, Niccolò winks at him. 

Whatever Nico's intention is, it's nothing compared to all the memories it summons in Marti, and the sentiment that comes with it, taking him back to another time. 

Nico’s grin is interrupted when, from behind, a guy sees his chance and jumps on his back; there’s shoving and bumping into the others, and they both sink into the water. After that, it’s chaos again, and it takes at least another five minutes before they’re ready to climb out. He knows training was supposed to end twenty minutes ago.

One by one they come out of the pool — they look so close, _united_ — and a bubble of chatter washes over Marti as they walk past him, but he’s focused on Nico, watches him stroll along, short of breath but with a brilliant smile on his face.

“Impressive training,” Marti greets him when he arrives, too sly to be genuine, and Nico slaps his shoulder, but stays at his side. 

Secretly, Marti _is_ impressed. By Nico’s dedication. By the self-discipline he clings to, every week. By his whole being.

His fingers twitch, want to reach out and touch, but Nico is half naked and they’re standing where everyone can see them. His bright smile is enough for now.

A friend slaps the back of Nico’s neck in passing. “Stay decent!” He laughs and adjusts his speed to quickly vanish around the corner and escape Nico’s revenge, who spins around, arms reflexively stretched out to chase him, but he pulls back and simply waits for everyone else to leave.

“I need a quick shower, then we can go,” Nico says, eyes sparkling. How he can still be full of energy after a workout will always be a mystery to Marti.

He disappears around the corner, leaving Marti to stay and watch the other groups. So Marti waits.

Seeing Niccolò have fun with his uni friends, who adore him if he goes by the number of parties Nico gets invited to, only makes things clearer for him. Nico isn’t only the best through Marti’s love drunk eyes. He’s sure it’s evident to everybody how impressive he is.

He sees it in every easy conversation people fall into with him, friends they meet at parties, his immediate charm with strangers.

Nico fills up every room like he’s the sun.

He stands out.

“Everything okay?”

It’s only when he hears Nico’s voice next to him in the locker room that Marti is abruptly pulled out of his pondering. 

The words put Marti back into his body, and he looks up from where he’s been blankly staring into the distance. They’re alone for the moment, Nico’s teammates already gone before they set foot in here.

Marti nods, but his shoulder jerks up on instinct, betraying him, sending a mixed message. 

Except, a mixed message from Marti is a clear message to Nico: something’s wrong.

The feeling is becoming harder to ignore, and frankly, Marti doesn’t know what to do about the doubts haunting his thoughts.

Nico tosses his towel in his bag, clears his throat and takes a hesitant step closer. He’s close enough Marti can see water dripping from the towel dried hair, leaving dots on his t-shirt.

“Sorry you have to wait for me.” Nico tries to sound casual talking about the day, but the words feel alien, like they don’t belong here, like they are part of a different conversation. 

It irks Marti, Nico feeling like he has to say that. They’re having dinner with Marti’s mom so it’s no big deal, and Marti means to answer but finds himself looking away, struggling to untie the string of tangled thoughts in his mind.

Nico makes a funny face. “It seemed like you were enjoying the sight.” 

Martino knows Nico is trying to lighten the mood, his tongue slips between his teeth for a moment and it gets a laugh out of Marti, the implication almost disarming, but somehow part of the problem. Marti relaxes a bit, which only makes him aware of how tense he’s gotten in the past few minutes.

Nico is so good at this, at everything.

It’s not easy to share his innermost feelings, even now, even after so many months. But Marti doesn’t like this thing standing between them, regardless of whether it’s just in his mind.

“You’re always _doing_ things.” There’s caution in Marti’s voice. Nico already has a full university schedule, and he still manages to fit in everything. Coming here to train, going to the gym, collecting ideas for uni projects, drawing, playing piano, spending time with Marti.

Nico furrows his brows, a confused line of worry appears in between.

It isn’t supposed to be an attack, he just wants to voice his thoughts, but hearing it out loud makes it seem like he’s criticizing Nico. Which he isn’t. 

In reality, it’s the opposite. Marti can’t match up.

He wonders, not for the first time, if Nico already knows this. If it has a point, this little voice in his head suggesting Nico is simply good at hiding it. 

Marti bites his lip, trying to conjure up the right words to explain.

“I’m not sure what this is about,” Nico admits, eyes searching Marti’s face. “We don’t have to do everything together.”

But it’s not what Marti’s worried about.

“No, that’s fine.” Marti exhales, then continues. “It’s just, you have so much to offer. And I’m just… me.”

He remembers Nico dancing, remembers feeling like, in comparison, there’s too little variety in Marti to make a whole person, and the need to keep up, unconsciously desperate to hold on and not let the difference between them get bigger. Scared that one day it might become too large to bridge.

“Marti.” Nico has said his name so many times in the last year, but at some point Marti started listening better, more carefully, until he figured out each time carried its own message. Now, Nico says is like he wants to understand. 

Like simultaneously — obviously — his name is the answer.

He says nothing more, and neither does Marti. There’s a flash of distress on Nico’s face, an expression Marti knows but never wants to see, but it’s gone in a second, and Nico’s eyes soften. 

He places his palms on Marti’s cheeks, slowly, not like he wants to shake the thoughts out of Marti’s brain, but gentle as ever, like he treasures it, thumbs brushing over his temples on both sides, catching the ends of his eyebrows. Marti stands there, lost and very, very still.

“You have no idea about all the good things you do.” Nico holds him steady, and Marti wants to say something, but he just slides his hands up Nico’s forearms and lets the words wander through his head, like a sunrise wiping out the dark doubts that took root. He tries to memorize it.

With Nico looking at him like that, with eyes that promise everything, Marti feels a little ridiculous about all of this.

Nico pushes up a few centimeters, on his tiptoes, and tilts Marti’s head forward, who instinctively closes his eyes, and feels lips on his skin, a carefully placed kiss on his forehead.

Maybe he wasn’t looking at this from a completely objective standpoint.

“I might be overthinking,” Marti clarifies. A broken apology.

Nico pulls back and looks thoughtful. “Are you happy?”

The question comes out of nowhere, but that’s what being with Nico is like, and Marti’s lips curl up, out of his control. Of course he’s happy. Nico smiles back with crinkling eyes, like he always does, a real smile. He supposes that is Nico’s answer. It’s settled.

“So I’m not too boring for you?” Marti asks.

Nico stares at him, then blinks, as if Marti’s words dropped the last piece of the puzzle in place. “Marti,” he repeats, fingers brushing his temples again. “Is that what you’re worried about?” 

Marti’s newly gained confidence stutters, he looks to the side.

Nico leans the same way, makes sure to catch Marti’s eyes and brings him back. “Please, don’t ever doubt yourself. It’s never boring with you. You amaze me every day. I'm serious, there’s no competition.” Nico says it slowly, like a mantra. His face gets that look he has when he’s contemplating, eyes never leaving Marti’s face. “Maybe I should tell you more often.”

Marti finds himself at a loss for words, because Nico always seems to have them.

“How are you so confident about this?” Marti asks, genuinely.

Silence, a pause. It’s not like Marti isn’t, he’s usually the firm one in crisis, solid and unafraid, ready for whatever comes, but it’s been over two months since uni started and all the changes that came with it into their lives. And Nico seems more positive than ever before.

“I have to be.” Softly, Nico says it like it is. “For me, it’s like this: there are good thoughts and bad thoughts. Sometimes it’s like there’s only one of them, the other seems impossible, but it’s not true. And there are good days and bad days. The same applies to them.” It’s a carefully worded explanation; Nico wants to make sure he gets his point across. “Which means: I can’t start questioning everything because of one bad thought.”

Deep inside, Marti knows this. He knows it’s something Nico holds on to, and now Nico sounds like he’s sharing knowledge, but Marti knows it’s much deeper than that, it comes from another place, much more vulnerable, and reflecting on his own thoughts so bravely puts Nico in control. 

He wants Nico to know he values it. “That’s good advice. I think I get it.” Marti sighs internally. Instead of overthinking and talking himself into a downward spiral of insecurity he should have kept all the suggestions in mind he usually tells others. He knows better than most it works that way.

“Good.” Nico nods, and everything feels easier. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I have to keep myself busy, you know? I want to.”

“You don’t have to explain. This wasn’t about that, I promise,” Marti notes in a low voice, and pushes an overgrown strand of hair out of Nico’s eye, before he slides his arms over Nico’s ribs and hooks them around his waist.

He doesn’t want Nico to feel obliged to justify it, just to comfort Marti.

“I know.” Nico looks perfectly content as he relaxes into his touch and lets his hands rest around Marti’s neck. After making it through all kinds of anxiety mixing in Marti’s stomach, the familiar sight calms Marti’s nerves, soothes his soul. 

“I like being good at something. It’s… comforting. Maybe it seems like there’s more pressure here, but it’s actually easier,” Nico continues, a wonderfully genuine look on his face. “Different from the situations I’m in every day. Like talking to so many people that I don’t know at uni, or stuff like that. I feel like I’m always trying so hard, so that people like me.”

Marti wants to interrupt, wants to list all the reasons why this should be the least of Nico’s concerns, but Nico is willingly sharing his thoughts, so he lets him speak.

“But here,” Nico looks around, “everything is familiar. I don’t have to worry about it. It lets me focus more.”

It dawns on Marti, a realization so obvious he wants to retract and take back all his words. Being so inside his own head, he left Nico’s feelings out of the equation. “I’m glad you found that here,” he says finally, and hopes it’s enough.

“With my new schedule I’m just trying to collect as many of those happy moments as possible. And if you need a reminder…” Nico leans closer — fingers drawing phantom patterns on Marti's skin, pushing into his hairline — and peers up at him through his eyelashes. “There’s never a moment when I don’t love you.”

It makes Marti’s heart do a little somersault.

“Same.” Marti laughs at himself, at his dumb response, but mostly it’s relief, useless weight leaving his body, so he can float even higher than he already is.

“It shows.” Nico laughs too, and Marti is incredibly glad Nico knows how much he loves him. The assurance makes him giddy down to his bones.

_”I feel like I’m always trying so hard, so that people like me.”_

Marti has learned there is always that bit of doubt that refuses to leave, seems to remain in depths of Nico nobody can reach, despite all the wise words he has for Marti, despite Marti trying to wish it away countless times. The thought is never far away when Nico talks like this.

“I know you think it is,” Marti closes the small distance between them, and leans his forehead against Nico’s, makes sure he’s listening closely, “but it’s not difficult to love you.”

Nico pauses, like he wasn’t prepared for Marti to say that. A new smile spreads across his face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Easiest thing in the world.”

Nico lifts his chin almost all the way. “Same,” he whispers right before he pulls him into a sweet kiss, and Marti loses himself in the feeling of Nico’s lips, because, still, he has everything: a plan for the day, and a familiar soul beneath his fingertips.

After all, Marti doesn’t mind waiting. It’s a good kind of anticipation. Knowing, no matter how much Nico is away and busy with uni, no matter how many nights Marti sleeps in his old room, no matter how often a bad thought crosses his mind, he has someone to come home to.

**Author's Note:**

> yes. i wrote this for comfort when i was emotional about these two boys. and what about it?
> 
> seriously, i miss them so damn much.
> 
> thanks for reading 🧡 tell me what you think in a comment or talk to me [on tumblr!](https://annefraid.tumblr.com/post/188392502735/try-and-evolve-giuliamed-skam-italy)


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